Page 12 of The Lady and the Footballer
“I’m not sure Lily will see it that way.”
“You do not know women. Of course she will.”
Her father was right, but Lily would take whatever reason would cause her mother to agree. She decided she best walk into the room about now, and her parents pasted smiles to their faces when they saw her.
“Well, shall I tell her the good news?” her mother asked, her eyebrows raised in expectation and her lips curled in the corners.
“What is it?” Lily asked, feigning curiosity.
“Your father has agreed to allow you to take on bookkeeping for the club.”
“Oh, how wonderful,” she said, clasping her hands together and hoping her surprise was believable. Her father did not seem convinced, but it appeared enough for her mother, who beamed back at her. “When do I start?”
“Tomorrow,” her father said. “My manager at the mill has been keeping most of the books as well, and he can show you what will be required.”
“I will go to the mill office?” she asked, thrilled. It wasn’t often that she spent time at the mill. It was not the nicest place in the world, no, but she would still welcome the opportunity to learn more about her father’s business. He spent more time there than most aristocrats, although he still hired a man to run the day-to-day business.
“To start, yes,” her father said. “You can come once a week.”
“Once a week!” her mother said, beginning to stand. “I?—”
“Had such a wonderful idea, did you not, Annabelle?” he said with a forced smile, and Lily had to choke back her laugh at her mother’s returning one.
“Yes,” she said in a strained voice. “Of course.”
Lily wondered if she would have the opportunity to watch the team practice. She had no idea how often they did, nor did she know when they played, but she couldn’t help wanting to see the brown-eyed man again.
Even if doing so was likely dangerous – in more ways than one.
Chapter Five
Colin’s next few weeks turned into a grind of work and football.
There was much to learn as a foreman during his shifts in the factory. Colin had thought that he was well versed in the workings of the mill, but it was only the machinery that he had been aware of – not the greater workings of the mill itself.
The amount of labor involved was nearly as complicated as the machinery itself, and he saw immediate areas for improvement in working conditions and efficiency.
He was aware, however, that he needed to prove his worth before making any suggestions on changes, but that would come in time.
He also tried to forget everything he could about Lord Harcourt’s daughter. He could have sworn that he saw her once or twice walking about the mill, but why she would be there, he had no idea. He was sure she had many other things to do with her time, like paint or dance or gossip or whatever noblewomen did.
He had no reason to harbor any ill will towards them.
But he did not find it in himself to be particularly agreeable to any of them unless they decided to put all of the extra time on their hands to good use, supporting charities and the like.
That was why there should be no reason for him to seek out a sight of her or any young lady on the day their first match arrived.
Colin’s breath misted in the crisp chill of the afternoon autumn air as he stood next to the grass field at the Pomona Gardens in his sturdy boots and heavy woolen shirt, striped maroon and cream to match the rest of his teammates.
He took a deep breath in, soaking in the magic that came before a match began on a day like today.
The crowd's noise around him was muted, although he could see the working men, mill laborers, and gentlemen surrounding the field right up to the touchline, dressed in wool coats and bowler hats. Women dotted the crowd while children stood as close as they could get, jumping and cheering for their favorite team.
Colin was glad to see that most appeared to be on their side. It was the first match of the season against the Manchester Athletics, which he knew was sponsored by Lord Montgomery, a rival mill owner.
Not that it mattered to him. He was just here to win a match.
Both of the teams were patron-sponsored clubs, with a mix of players who were working class like himself, to professionals such as merchants, teachers, and clerks. He had a feeling that it pained Lord Harcourt that a man who worked for him might be one of the most skilled, but it also allowed him to be paid for his contributions.
